Sonnet No. Twelve Louise Labe Poem by Tom Billsborough

My Lute, companion of my calamity,
Witness to my irreproachable sighs,
True controller and to my worries wise,
You have lamented often close by me.

How often have my cries afflicted thee
That, starting up upon some happy round,
You have struck up a deep lamenting sound,
Adapting your tone to suit a lower key.

And when you wish to change to major key
Intending thus to force a change in me,
You see again how tenderly I'm sighing

Accede at once to my dolorous complaint
To ease my worries with your soft restraint
And these sweet pains to sweeter ends releasing.